The hum of chatter was interrupted by the irresistible aroma of freshly cooked pierogi, my favourite dish.
I settled into the cafeteria with the warmth of the dish comforting me amidst the sea of familiar faces. I felt that everybody was looking at me. Some looks were subtle, others not so much.
I noticed lots of eyes discreetly darting towards me. I pretended not to notice, but with everything that had transpired recently, the growing weight of attention was noticeable.
Rob, who has been investigating the Gravity Gun test failure, strolled past my table. A smug look stretched across his face. “Looks like the Gravity Gun mystery has been solved, eh Jack?” he remarked sarcastically as he walked by. His words carried the unsaid implication that my part in the investigation was questioned, and apparently now answered.
Her presence normally calms me down, but not this time
Lost in my thoughts, I was brought back to reality when Jamie slid into the seat across from me. “Hey,” she said with a casual smile, her demeanour as nonchalant as ever. We exchanged pleasantries, talking about the weather, the food, anything but the events of the last few days.
Suddenly, her tone shifted. She leaned forward slightly, the ambient noise of the cafeteria drowning out her voice to anyone but me. She began to whisper, her words sharp and hushed, “Jack, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I looked deep into her eyes, sensing her urgency. “The guard. From the security office,” she murmured, “He is right there, in the corner. And I think he saw me. Right before the door closed.”
I quickly scanned the room, then turned my focus back to her, “Jamie, they were out cold from the gas. I doubt they remember anything.”
She bit her lip nervously, then gestured with a slight nod to the corner of the room. Following her gaze, I saw him.
Sometimes confusion is good
His eyes, normally sharp and attentive, now displayed a certain haziness. He squinted slightly, brows creased, as if trying to discern an elusive thought or image from the edges of his mind. There was a distinct look of someone grappling with a half-remembered dream, of trying to cling onto fragments of memories that were slipping away.
His eyes darted between his plate and Jamie, reflecting an internal battle of recognition. It was evident that something about Jamie’s face struck a chord, a distant bell ringing in the far recesses of his mind, yet it was muffled, distorted by the fog of confusion that clouded his memory.
The uncertainty was clear and the vagueness of his stare was speaking more than words ever could. It was the look of someone standing at the precipice of clarity but unable to make the final leap.
Jamie’s voice quivered, “He’s been staring at me ever since I walked in.”
I tried to maintain a calm facade, “Just don’t make any eye contact. He’s probably just trying to piece things together, but there is no way he remembers anything. We’re okay.”
But as the minutes dragged on, and with Jamie’s evident distress, the weight in the air grew heavier. Every whispered word, every subtle glance, it all felt like a choreographed dance of tension.
When uncertain becomes certain
And it all peaked as the guard slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. The muted chatter of the cafeteria seemed to dim, replaced by the rhythmic thud of his boots against the linoleum floor. Each step was deliberate, carrying an air of intention, yet shrouded in ambiguity.
Jamie’s heart raced in tandem with his pace with the weight of uncertainty pressing heavily upon her. Pausing momentarily at the exit, he turned his head over his shoulder casting a penetrating glance in Jamie’s direction.
The earlier confusion in his eyes had morphed into a determined fire, burning with a newfound conviction. An eerie silence enveloped the room, a silent showdown between the two.
Then, with a swift pivot, he continued his march, his path turning towards the door down the well-lit hall leading to Rashmoor’s office.
